


Brothers Support Brothers

by story_telling_sage



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Crutchie is a fully fledged person and let that be recognized, Gen, Jack worried but doesn't know when to shut up, Minor Violence, Racetrack is Tired TM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 18:24:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15345843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/story_telling_sage/pseuds/story_telling_sage
Summary: Crutchie has a tussle with the Delanceys, Jack says something he regrets, and Race is trying to keep everyone in one piece.





	Brothers Support Brothers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [helpimbeingchasedbywaltwhitman](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=helpimbeingchasedbywaltwhitman).



> Hey y'all, look! I'm alive!! And thoroughly immersed in musical fandoms now thanks to the fact that last year the theater department at my school ate me whole. This is my first Newsies fic but point of view for this was really fun! May or may not be revisiting writing for this fandom...
> 
> As always, the boys aren't mine but the words are. Enjoy!

Crutchie could feel his bad leg dragging behind him, but he didn’t have time to rest. It was nearing dark and the bulls would be out to find anyone loitering about. He really needed to get back to the lodging house and it honestly couldn’t be that far. Crutchie hadn’t gone that far. It seemed a lot longer than it had this morning with his chest aching like it was and his bad leg yapping at him. Between the unshakable cold and the Delancey brothers, Crutchie’s leg wasn’t doing him any favors. Which wasn’t doing him any favors for getting home on time. 

God, Jack was gonna be pissed. Crutchie loved his brother. Loved him more than he really knew what to do with, but Jack could mother far better than his own mother used to. Crutchie was sure there was some irony there, but didn’t quite have the energy to find it when all he could think about was lecture he was gonna get. 

“Jesus shit,” Racer said, as Crutchie finally hobbled up to the lodging house. He was out smoking when Crutchie became visible beneath the sparse street lights. Ever since Smalls got her own bunk, Jack made Race stop smoking inside. She had asthma --- mothering, what’d Crutchie tell ya? --- Though Crutchie would be more than glad if Racer kicked the habit all together. Tonight though, tonight he was grateful. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just get me the first aid kit, would ya?” 

“First yous gonna sit the fuck down, Crutch. The hell happened?” 

“Pretty sure the Delancey boys were just bored. Thought tryin’ in rip my leg outta it’s socket would be good fun.” Crutchie meant it as a joke, but based on the way Racer’s face grew twisted and ugly with rage his words had landed wrong. “Come on now, Race. Give it up, I’m fine.” 

Crutchie wasn’t, not really, but Race didn’t need to know that. Anyways, he’d been hurt worse before. This was nothin’ compared to the the hurtin’ the Refuge had put on him a few months back. 

(Crutchie still didn’t like to think about it. Didn’t like to think about how sometimes he flinched, like he expected one of his brothers to be one of Spyder’s boys. Didn’t like to think about how his ribs creaked when the weather got cold in a way that never had before. Crutchie didn’t like to think about it.)

In all honesty though, nothing had been the same since the Strike. Things had been better than ever except for the fact that all the other Newsies were walkin ‘round him all cautious like, like Racer was now. 

Racer looked at him hard, taking in Crutchie’s sorry state before twisting an arm around his waist to help him inside. 

“Jackie Boy is gonna tear you an ever lovin’ new one, Crutch. You knows he don’t want you selling without a partner when it gets this cold out.”

“Listen, I spent all day with Specs. I just had a few more to shove off and Specs was meetin’ up with Al. Didn’t think it was no big deal and it wasn’t. Only thing that woulda been different is yous woulda been patchin’ Specs up too. Can it, would ya?”

Speaking of Specs--- 

“Fuck, Crutchie. The hell happened?” Specs’ eyes had gone wide more moving right into action. Opposed to Racer, who couldn’t seem to shut his yapper, Specs was more preoccupied with gettin’ the first aid box.

“Yous lucky Jack is with Daves tonight, Crutch. Hell, yous lucky I don’t send Al over to his place to give hims a message, he’s gonna kill me.” Racer worried his cigar between his fingers as he paced, words rambling. Race never was real good in a crisis, like you could call this a crisis. This was a fuckin’ Tuesday night. That, however, didn’t deter Race from continuing on his tirade. 

“You know that Crutch? He’s gonna kill me, then lecture you, and then probably kill the both of us.”

“Racer,” Crutchie said, drawing Racer’s blue eyes to his own brown ones. His words had a deadpan that seemed to startle him out of his worry as Racer nodded in acknowledgement. “Yous know as well as I do that Jack ain’t gonna touch you or me and it’s gonna be fine. So breath, cool down, and hand me that gauze would ya?”  

Racer obediently handed him the gauze, even if he didn’t cease his mutterings. 

“Give ‘em a break, Crutch,” Specs said as he pushed at Crutchie’s ribs to see if any were broken. “He’s been workin’ with Smalls all day. That little spitfire’s gonna be the death of him.”

“She nearly ran into fuckin’ traffic ta’day! Imma put a leash on her I swears…” Specs just laughed at Racer’s plight. Being Jack’s second came with all sorts of perks but it also came with showing the new kids the ropes and takin’ ‘em under his wing when Jack didn’t have the time for it. 

“Between yous and the lil one, it’s thanks to small fuckin’ mercies I’m still breathin. Trouble magnets, the both of you,” Racer said as he slapped a bandaid across one of the minor scrapes on Crutchie’s good leg. “Small fuckin’ mercies, Crutch.” 

Crutchie couldn’t help but smile, his dopy little grin. Small mercies indeed. 

\---

It was only a small mercy that kept Jack from trying to shake some sense into Crutchie when he saw him at the circulation gate in the morning. Crutchie was as whole as he always was when the pair parted ways after lunch yesterday but now he looked like he had gone through the ringer: ugly bruises barely visible under his unbuttoned shirt, a heavier limp than usual, and an impressive black eye formin’. God, Jack could kill ‘em, but first he’d be soakin’ whoever dared laid a hand on his brother.

“One night,” Jack admonishes, “I left you guys for one night, and what happens? Crutchie, what are yous even doin’ here? Go home, rest, you look like fuckin’ hell. Specs, yous was supposed to be with him, what happened? Race--”

“Jack,” Crutchie breaks off, stepping closer to his Jack. Jack wants nothing more than to run his hands over every inch of Crutchie to check for aches and pains, to make sure everything got bandaged up right. He knew he mothered Crutchie, he knew it. But he’d respond this way if it was any of his boys. It wasn’t like he could turn it off. These boys were countin’ on him.

“Jack, I’m right here and I’m fine. Okay?” Crutchie said as Jack patted him down gently, checking for anywhere that might still be bleedin’. “I’m breathin’ good and everything. Hell, Specs says nothin even broke.”

“Why wasn’t Specs--”

“Cause I can take care of myself, Jackie. Yous weren’t the only one with date night yesterday and I still had some papes to sell.”

“Can you?” Jack said, and while the other Newsies hadn’t been exactly loud before now they all went silent. Jack knew he was fucking up, even as the words came out of his mouth, but he was so  _ worried--- _ so  _ angry--- _ “Can you take care of yourself? Cause from where I’m standin’ you can’t!”

Rationally, Jack knew Crutchie could take care of himself, he really did, but that didn’t stop the way every time he saw Crutchie with bruised skin and that tired set to his shoulders that said he was watin’ for a blow, it didn’t stop the fact that it was Jack’s fault and if Crutchie got hurt again-- if Crutchie died-- it was on Jack’s hands and that shit never came clean.

Those hands were shaking now in the silence. No one dared say anything, not with the way Jack’s face had drained of color and the way Crutchie’s jaw had gone tight, his eyes narrow. 

“Jack--” Racer said, but he was cut off by the circulation bell. Crutchie didn’t bother waiting around, just pushed past Jack and towards Weasle to get his papes. The other Newsies parted for him and Jack just stood still, the weight of his words finally dawning on him. 

“Me and Smalls got him today,” Racer said, as the others filed into the square. “Don’ worry. We’s got him. Just… just take a breath, Jack. Alright? Take a breath. We’s got him.” Racer’s eyes were a worried shade of blue, more serious than they normally ever were. 

“We’s got him,” Racer said, almost as if Jack hadn’t heard him the first two times. A quiet nod and Race unclapped his hand from Jack’s shoulder and went to go get his own papes and track down Crutchie with his new prodigy. 

“What did I miss?” Jack heard someone say and he turned, never being more grateful to see Davey than right now. Davey’s head cocked to the side, confusion and worry warring on his face in the form of a half open mouth and scrunched eyebrows. Any other day Jack would think it was cute, now he just felt a pit in his stomach.

“I’s fucked up, Davey. I fucked up.”

\---

Crutchie didn’t go to the roof that night. He didn’t need Jack’s hiding spot, he had some of his own. Unfortunately, the fact that Jack had known Crutchie going on nearly six years now meant he knew most of those hidey holes already… It was hardly like this was their first fight, after alls. So really, it wasn’t much of a surprise when he heard the sound of creaking metal behind him. 

Still, Crutchie stayed resolutely facing the cityscape instead of turning ‘round to Jack. If hes was here he could apologize or get out.  

“I really hope that’s an apology on your lips, brother, or I’d be usin’ your walking feet to get right back down those stairs.”

Given the heavy sigh and the sound of man hittin’ concrete next to Crutch, Jack didn’t plan on going anywheres. Good, apology it was then. Crutchie would be lying if he said he hadn’t already forgiven Jack for their spat this morning --- okay, mostly forgiven --- but he still wanted to hear the words.

“You knows it is. I shouldn’t’a said that shit an’ I know it. I’s was… I’s was just worried.” Jack’s hands were fidgeting incessantly, at first only wringing out his hat before his hands moved steadily towards his hairline.

“You don’t gotta be worried about me Jack, I swears…” Crutchie tried to reassure him but he knew Jack, he had to get the words out first.

“It’s not just you. It’s all the boys, but, yeah… it’s yous too. Ain’t no use lyin’ about that. You been here since the beginnin’ Crutch. Since I was a cocky lil’ twelve year old shit and yous was a shakin’ shiverin’ mess. Yous was the one who’s ass drug me home from the Refuge after that first few weeks when I’s could barely walk, alright? It’s been almost five years. I’m always gonna worry and it’s…. It’s not cause you can’t take care of yourself, cause you can and I knows you can, I’m not that stupid… I just... five fuckin’ years, Crutch. And yous just got back to walkin’ normal last week since, ya know, everything, and I just… I freaked, you wanna hear me say it? I freaked and I’m sorry and I said stupid shit and I’m extra sorry, okay?”

It was a miracle Jack stayed sittin’ for the entire thing, though Crutch knew it was for his benefit. All that nervous energy that he usually woulda got out pacing a hole in the floor was instead channeled through making his hair a right mess. It was sticking up all over everywhere as Jack looked at Crutchie with those pleading eyes. Crutchie softened. Like he said, there was never any question of forgiveness bein’ on or off the table. Crutchie forgave Jack’s stupid mouth ages after about the third time it got them in trouble-- and  _ that _ was a long ass time ago. 

“Of course, I forgives you, Jack. I probably woulda freaked too if you had shown up all messed up and I didn’t know what happened. It’s just if yous start thinkin’ of me as weak, the other boys ain’t gonna be far behind and I can’t have that Jack. Yous know I can’t.”

“And yous ain’t weak either. I know it and if the boys don’t know it, they just stupid. I’m sorry, Crutch, really.” Jack moved, resting his arm around Crutchie’s shoulder and Crutchie shooched a little closer to the touch. “What did happen, anyways?”

Crutchie hoped Jack didn’t miss the glare he shot him at the protective edge to that question. Crutchie knew Jack and that knew he knew what Jack sounded like when he was about to go beat the tar outta someone. 

“Just the Delanceys with their normal shit. Got in a lucky hit here and theres, no biggie.” Crutchie sighed against Jack’s arm as he felt the older boy go stiff. Crutchie was sure that jaw of his was clenched tighter than Pulitzer’s fist around a wad of cash. 

“Specs shoulda been with you,” Jack said but Crutchie cut him off early. Jack and that stupid mouth.

“You know it ain’t Specs fault,” he said, leveling another glare up at Jack, “and yous ain’t gonna take it out on ‘em either.”

“ _ Still-- _ it’s why we sells in pairs, so Delancey can’t pull this shit. Fuck, Imma kill them, just you watch.”

“No yous ain’t. Tomorrow yous gonna buy your papes and you’re gonna laugh at Race and Smalls and you ain’t gonna do nothing to Delancey. You on one, even if the one is Delancey is hardly a fairs fight.”

Crutchie wasn’t even trying to hide his shit eatin’ smile as Jack looked at him in incomprehension. It wasn’t long between that grin and the flickering memory that one of the Delancey brothers hadn’t been at the gate this morning that Jack seemed to get his meanin’. 

“You lil’ fucker!” Jack crowed and Crutchie laughed and laughed and laughed ‘til he could feel his ribs where they’d cracked. It didn’t stop his shit eatin’ grin though.

“Let’s just say Big Brother Morris ain’t gonna be into work tomorrow… or the day afta’,” Crutchie said. Jack could feel Crutchie’s laugh reverberate through his body with their sides pressed together as they were. He couldn’t help but smile at the feelin’. Yeah, Crutchie was just fine. “He ain’t broke nothin on me but I can’t say the same about him. Theys were the ones limpin’ away last night, not me. Well, kinda me, but yous know what I mean.” 

Crutchie let some of the levity ease out of his voice, growing more serious.

“I can take care of myself, Jack. Ain’t no maiden in distress. Yous know that.” Jack nodded, brown eyes going guilty but it had been forgiven so the guilt didn’t stay long. Not between brothers like them.

“Yeah, I knows, but yous takin’ tomorrow off Crutchie. No arguments.” Crutchie rolled his eyes but nodded.  _ Motherin’, I swears... _

“You’ve got it, brother,” Crutchie said, leaning into Jack’s arm. Yeah, he could take care of himself, but a little support from his brother never was amiss either. 


End file.
